Memories

Chapter Five

Seamus held onto Hermione as they listened to Mr. Weasley with bated breath.

"He . . . doesn't have his memory."

He felt his wife of two years collapse against him, shaking terribly.

"S'all right," he whispered against her ear.

He held onto her grimly, his heart thumping in his throat.

He couldn't believe Harry was alive -- that he was in the next room. But he did not remember -- what had happened in the Last Battle? Nobody would know but Harry -- if Harry ever got his memory back.

"How did you find him, then?" George asked, his voice disbelieving.

"I'll explain everything in a minute," said Mr. Weasley. "I just need you all to sit down."

Seamus led Hermione to her seat, where she collapsed against him, her shoulders shaking.

"Molly," Arthur called, a hand to his eyes.

*~*~*~*

"It's a start," said Molly in a hollow voice.

Harry furrowed his brow. "What d'you mean?"

"Remembering those . . . flashes of green," said Molly, "means that you remember some amount of your past, dear. Whether from your childhood or . . . from the Last Battle."

Harry's brow furrowed. He shifted on his feet, running a hand through his hair. "Last Battle? What's --"

"Molly."

She gave a startled movement, staring at the door. "Oh," she said. "They're ready."

She took Harry's arm. "It'll be all right, dear."

Harry, however, had a strange feeling. Who was on the other side of that door? Were they his family? His friends?

He couldn't remember anything -- and it was getting to him. He didn't like that he'd done something to Ginny Weasley. He didn't like feeling this way -- feeling helpless.

Molly walked him through the door into a small kitchen.

There were dishes chinking in a sink to the far left, a golden clock on the wall. Harry could not read what it said, however. And . . . was that an owl? A large owl sat in the window. It looked annoyed by a madly twittering owl, which was rather small.

There was a group of people sitting around a scrubbed wooden table. Three of them had the same red hair, so Harry guessed that were brothers of Ginny -- Molly and Mr. Weasley's children.

Two of the brothers were twins -- Harry was going to have a problem remembering which was which -- he was sure of that. The other had more freckles. He looked well-built -- like he did some kind of . . . sport. He was a little gangly, though (perhaps it was because of his long legs?). He had a pointed nose and dark brown eyes.

The woman next to him was pretty. She had reddish-brown hair that fell below her shoulders and hazel eyes. She had moon pale skin and high cheekbones, long legs.

Sitting opposite the couple was yet another one. A young man holding a woman. He had sandy brown hair and a strong chin. The woman leaning on him was staring at Harry with wide eyes. She had brown-curls falling onto her shoulders, brown eyes as well.

Ginny was sitting by one of her brothers, wiping her eyes.

Harry furrowed his brow. He knew none of them. Not a single one -- he tried.

No.

But they seemed to know him.

"It's all right, dear," Molly whispered.

Harry allowed her to lead him to a seat at the head of the table, where he stared at everyone, trying to remember something -- anything.

"So . . . where do I begin?" Mr. Weasley began, pacing. "Well . . . over the past few months we've been noticing magical surges from a general area. Two of my Auror's, who had been on the search still. Ernie Macmillan and Jack Taylor -- both old friends of yours, Harry," he added to the young man. "These magical surges were rather powerful -- but quick. So they never had the chance to pinpoint the location -- and they never notified the Law Offices because . . . well, it wouldn't have been enough to condone punishment or investigation. . . Well, this afternoon -- just when they were about to go home -- their equipment went haywire."

He drew a letter from his robes pocket. "They sent me a letter while I was upstairs. It says here that it was the longest running magical energy they'd ever had -- just long enough for them to find a location. And then they found Harry."

Harry watched him closely as he paced around the table.

"Harry woke up in the Johnathan Turpin hospital in Manchester," said Mr. Weasley. "Ernie and Jack took him from there while the rest of the Aurors wiped memories. It is my understanding that they're still there."

The room was silent following this pronouncement. Eyes darted between Mr. Weasley and Harry, who was beginning to feel uncomfortable.

"So have I been missing for the past year?" Harry asked, breaking the silence.

"Yes," responded Mr. Weasley. "But we've been on the search for you everyday since."

"But . . . what's made me lose my memory?" Harry asked.

"We believe it's a Muggle condition," said Mr. Weasley. "One I don't know the name of --"

"Amnesia," said a young woman's voice.

Harry looked around to the woman with curly hair, who was sitting up straight in her chair. "In some cases amnesia can last for days, or it can last for months. There have also been cases were it lasts for years -- it all depends on the patient."

"So you mean . . . it could be years until my memory comes back?" Harry asked.

Mr. Weasley nodded grimly.

"There are, however, ways to stimulate memory," said the young woman.

"How is that?" Mr. Weasley asked.

"Stimulate it -- show the patient pictures, or significant things. . . Talk with the patient about certain events."

Mr. Weasley was silent as he processed this information. "So . . . are you saying we can help Harry regain his memory?"

"Exactly."

"Then we shouldn't waste any time," said Mr. Weasley. "I, however, must be returning to work. . ."

"Of course, Arthur," said Molly, rising to her feet. "Make sure you return in time for dinner, dear."

"I will," answered Mr. Weasley.

He turned to Harry. "I'll see you later, all right."

Harry nodded as the older man gave a squeeze of his shoulder.

Everyone rose out of their seats, Harry standing awkwardly next to Molly.

"We need to be getting home," said the sandy-haired man. He had a strong accent.

But he strode forward, offering his hand. "I'm Seamus. Seamus Finnigan."

Harry stared at him for a beat, but shook hands. "Harry. Nice to meet you."

The others began to follow suit. The twins came next. "I'm Fred," said the one on the left. "And this is George."

Harry nodded.

Next to come was the young woman with reddish-brown hair. "Adrian. Adrian Redgrave." She had the same accent as Seamus.

She, however, did something Harry did not expect. She stood on tip-toe, her hands on his shoulders, and kissed his cheek.

She did not give Harry the chance to question her motives before moving away. He stared after her, his brow furrowed.

"Hello Harry," said a small voice. "Hermione Granger."

Harry looked around to the woman with curly hair. Her brown eyes stared deep into his own.

"Hello Hermione," he answered.

A hand went to her mouth before she wrapped her arms around him, sniffing all the while.

Harry awkwardly patted her back. He didn't know her. He didn't know what to do.

"And I'm Ron," came another voice as she finally drew away.

The other red-headed boy strode forth.

"Hello Ron," said Harry.

Ron's jaw clenched for a moment, his gaze flickering, but he clapped Harry on the shoulder. "Nice to have you back."

He strode past to his mother. "Mum -- do you have a moment?"

And then they were alone. Harry and Ginny.

Ginny was the only person that had not risen from her seat. She sat there quite calmly, her hands folded over one another.

Harry cleared his throat.

She looked over at him and rose to her feet, leaving a good distance between them.

"Look," said Harry. He paused, awkwardly stuffing his hands into his pockets. "I'm -- I'm sorry I made you cry."

She wiped her eyes. "It's quite all right."